the first kid to ride a horse like a friend (peteypan) wrote in from_the_ashes, @ 2009-11-18 21:15:00 |
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Entry tags: | char: pete, char: william, plot: bindrunes, plot: zombies |
who: Pete & William
where: Ravenclaw
what: momentary lack of zombizzles
when: friday night
Ravenclaw was Pete's first stop—well, his first stop after he ran into a group of terrified kids about halfway down the stairs in Gryffindor tower, escorted them back up, made eyes at Ryland, implored the fat lady to be extra careful, and then took off again—because he hadn't forgotten that they didn't have a Head of House, and he also hadn't forgotten that they were generally very skilled and even more aware of it. He had nightmare visions of little Ravenclaw third years with chunks of flesh missing; when he got there, however, he mostly found them huddled in their common room making wary (yet worryingly inquisitive) eyes at the door.
He'd handed over a copy of the list that his little honorary Gryffindor had made before he'd left, and let them set to making a copy and adding their names to it. He had rooms to check and provisions to evaluate. There was no way to know how long this would last, and if it would transfer from house elf to human, but he did know that what had been scattered clusters of zombies on his way to Gryffindor tower in the first place had turned into thicker throngs, and he imagined it was only a matter of time before the castle halls were crowded with them.
All of the dorms were cleared (he'd only had to take a few fortifying breaths to convince himself to get on his knees and check under the bed; zombie bites were one thing, but if someone took a chunk out of his face he would never get over it), and he had verified that all of the first and second floor bathrooms were zombie-free. He was checking the first of the bathrooms on the uppermost floor (pushing open stall doors and warily checking behind linen closet doors) when he heard a sliding sort of scuffle noise from outside. He whipped around, wand-hand at the ready, heart-racing and mouth suddenly dry; even with all that, his wrist was twitching eagerly and he pushed up on his toes, more ready to hex than was strictly dignified.
It was dark out, and he couldn't see outside details for the light flooding the bathroom, so when he saw the shape surging through the narrow window, he figured he would cast first and ask questions later. The windows were tiny, anyway. No reasonably sized human would think to use it as an entrance. "Petrificus Totalus," he shouted, jabbing his wand sharply at the totally creepy, murderous, zombified house elf coming through the window.